


Mind Map

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kidfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft is stuck babysitting his four year old little brother who has his heart set on being a pirate, and a rather hyper one at that. Sherlock starts to make maps and places in his mind and Mycroft doesn't trust extendable umbrellas anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind Map

"Mycroft! Mycroft!"

Mycroft groaned and wished he wasn't mature enough for his age to be stuck babysitting a hyper four year old Sherlock. "Would you please stop making such a racket? I'm trying to study for school."

"This is important!" Mycroft sighed and turned around to see Sherlock beaming behind him bouncing up and down in the pirate hat he never took off in his waking hours. "Am I flying yet?"

"What?"

"I have all of my components, faith, trust and pixie dust," he explained as he held up a Pixy Stix tube 'Well that explains a lot' thought Mycroft. "But I'm not getting satisfying or accurate results. I replicated the original circumstances as closely as I could minus jumping out of a window, so I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

"Well, ah," Mycroft struggled to find an explanation for Sherlock aside from 'magic doesn't exist' because he knew he wouldn't believe him at this age. "You're a pirate, right?"

"Of course!"

"Pirates don't fly."

Sherlock stopped his jumping and asked, "Well, why not?"

"You saw Peter Pan, they just can't."

"Oh." Sherlock sniffed and looked like he was about to start sobbing. Mycroft began to internally panic at the lecture he'd get from their parents if they got home to find out that he'd made Sherlock upset and racked his brains to find a good solution. He wasn't particularly close to Sherlock and the crying would be more annoying than heart wrenching, but either way it looked like he wasn't going to get his homework done for the day.

Mycroft shut his books and turned to a misty-eyed Sherlock. "You want to know what pirates can do?"

"What?"

"Bury treasure." Sherlock immediately brightened and ran off, probably to find something to bury in the yard (he had tried numerous times to hide some sort of treasure out there and had been caught; now it looked like Mycroft would have to let it slide). Mycroft grabbed his favorite extendable umbrella and pulled on boots for their trek outside. It may have only been drizzling outside, but any dampness was unpleasant to him.

Sherlock bounded down the stairs to their balcony out back and waited impatiently for his older brother. Mycroft noticed he had added a long navy blue jacket and sturdy leather boots to his costume and was carrying a small chest no doubt filled with kiddy treasure.

In an effort to play along and keep Sherlock happy Mycroft asked, "Hey, where's your eye patch? I know you have one somewhere in your horrendous wreck of a room."

"Don't you know anything Mycroft?" By now Mycroft was used to the patronizing looks Sherlock managed to give him though he was seven years Sherlock's senior but they still wounded his pride.

"What piece of trivia am I missing this time, Sherlock?"

"Trivia? Honestly, it's elementary. Pirates wore eye patches over one eye in case they needed to go below deck in a hurry. This way, they could go down, take the patch off and one of their eyes would already be adjusted to the low light. This was especially crucial during raids; in fact, they were mostly only worn during a raid anyways. So why on Earth would I wear it if I didn't plan on going down to the cellar? The only good it'd do out there in the afternoon light is hinder my vision."

"Fine, whatever." Mycroft moodily lifted his umbrella and pressed the small button on it to make the body extend when, just to make his day better, he was reminded of how often it was used when the top launched off and shattered an ornate and possibly antique vase.

Dropping all sophisticated diction Sherlock giggled and said, "Oooooh you're going to be in huge trouble for that."

A long string of words that Mycroft didn't want Sherlock to learn from him ran through his head as he tried to think of a way to not be punished, "It was an accident so hopefully mum and dad won't be too upset, right?"

"I think that was worth more than an average London dweller's yearly wages."

"Okay, we're already in deep trouble so let's go out and bury your little box before they get home; at least it's unlikely that they'll find out about it."

Mycroft was about to go and get another umbrella of his when Sherlock said, "Umbrellas are for sissies; it's only a slight drizzle out there."

Sherlock walked outside and wandered around the trees and shrubbery searching for a suitable dig site while Mycroft rolled his eyes and followed him outdoors in hopes of getting it over with as soon as possible. He snatched a couple of trowels from the gardener's shed and jogged over to Sherlock, who was kneeling by the roots of a large tree on the edge of their property as far away from the house as he could get. "You think this is a good spot?"

"The dirt is loosely packed making this easy to dig around in. The sprinklers went off over here not too long ago so the soil is still moist, so when we repack the earth it'll blend in."

"Let's get this over with." The two of them dug for about ten minutes before Sherlock was satisfied with the depth of the pit. Sherlock dropped the chest in the bottom and started to look a little gloomy again.

"What's wrong, Sherlock?"

"As fun as this was, it feels like it was over too quickly. I know it isn't very sensible as it could lead to us getting caught, plus the fact that pirates rarely did it anyways I feel tempted to create a map."

Mycroft thought for a moment as he shoveled dirt into their pit and replied, "You don't have to make a physical map Sherlock."

"What do you mean?"

"You can make a mental map, a map in your head. I'm sure you could do it. You simply make a note to yourself in the form of a scene or place or anything you want. It doesn't even need to be real for it to work. Do you follow me?"

"Yes, I think I do. I'll just save this to my memory in form of a map."

"Splendid." Mycroft paused as they both heard the distant sound of their parent's car pulling into the driveway. "We need to hurry back and hopefully get cleaned up. Act natural and get them into a good mood so they don't get too upset over the vase." Sherlock nodded and stood up along with Mycroft as they headed back to the house.

On the walk back Sherlock noticed Mycroft's expression and said, "Well, at least with the vase broken the chances of mum finding out I took some of her costume jewelry are pretty slim."

"You WHAT?"

"In the box, I put some of her costume jewelry in there."

"Oh God Sherlock, what did you do that for?"

"I wouldn't be much of a pirate if my plunder wasn't stolen, now would I? Besides, judging by the dust on the few necklaces, rings, and bracelets we hid I figure she hasn't worn them for at least two years."

"I hope you're right." Mycroft and Sherlock walked into the house's front lobby to meet their parents just getting home from a formal outing.

"Hello mother, father," said Mycroft with a smile slightly too wide. Sherlock stood beside him and also smiled and tried to seem happy about being near Mycroft.

"Hello boys, how was your day?" asked their mother. She couldn't quite believe what she was seeing and wondered why they seemed to be getting along so well.

"Quite well," piped up Sherlock.

"Yes yes, quite well indeed," continued Mycroft. "I just returned from a pleasant stroll in the garden with my dear younger brother." He slipped an arm around Sherlock's shoulders in a brotherly hug while smiling a little wider.

Their father looked at the two of them and asked, "You went for a stroll in the garden, really?"

"Yes, we just got back, father," said Sherlock.

"The weather's ghastly," added Mycroft. Their parents exchanged a look that he bet meant 'Who are these two and what happened to our bickering children?'

"I see, and why are your knees and legs so dirty?" asked their mother.

"Sherlock fell after he got his foot caught in a small groove in the ground and I have to help him up. I was originally going to keep him inside today so I could focus on my studies, but he was feeling rather rambunctious and I decided that for the safety of the many delicate valuables in the house that he should be outdoors for awhile."

Even though he was four Sherlock could see where this was going and tried to avert the incoming blame that might be laid upon him for the vase. "Yes, I was feeling a bit antsy so Mycroft said that some time outdoors would do me good. His umbrella broke before we went out though, which is why he's soaking wet like me."

Mycroft gave Sherlock a miniscule pinch on the shoulder and resisted the urge to glare at him as he said, "Yes, it was unfortunate that my umbrella's mechanism failed."

"Okay," said their father. "Your umbrella broke, and you two went on a walk with him dressed like that? No one saw you, I hope."

"No, of course no one did as we were just in the garden," said Sherlock. "I don't see why you mind what I'm wearing; this is much more fashionable and elegant than what others in my peer group would wear, although when I grow out of this coat I'd like a black one, not blue." Their father shrugged it off and left the room much to Mycroft's relief; if anyone was going to be extremely upset it'd be him.

Their mother sighed and said, "Alright, you two had an exceptionally good day, and I'll get you a new umbrella, okay Mycroft?"

"Thank you; please don't make it an extendable one, though?"

"Why not?" She walked towards the back of the house and the bedrooms upstairs when she shrieked, "What happened to my vase?"

"I don't think you want me to get another extendable one either," called out Mycroft with a touch of humor to try and soothe any anger she might have.

Years later Mycroft and Sherlock both thought of the whole thing as another one of their childhood adventures with their typical squabbles and the budding rivalry included. However, Sherlock thought of it also as the beginning to the way his mind worked.

Mycroft had gone on about a mind map and assumed Sherlock forgot about it or disregarded it over the years as it was an improvised piece of advice to try and save them from trouble. What he didn't know was that Sherlock had indeed made a mind map, but he'd done so much more than that.

Sherlock made an entire palace.


End file.
